Matthew, Jaffar and Nino
by Spritz Reckle
Summary: What naturally happens when you write a tragedy about those three characters


**Matthew, Jaffar and Nino**

What naturally happens when you write a tragedy about those three characters.

It starts out funny but believe me, I'm just messing with your mind. In fact I don't see why you would want to read this at all, it's sad. I don't read sad things and I certainly wouldn't read this if I came across it. Read on if you're sadistic and like making yourself sad.

Ah yes, muses. It seems one has to have muses around here but the weird thing is that I already have one: Meet Nayru, who as well as being a goddess of Hyrule and creating it every time someone gets up to the appropriate point in Ocarina of Time, is doing part-time musing as well. The thing is that she doesn't talk to mortals.

Nayru: . . .

See, she's right at home among Fire Emblem characters.

Anyway, I had to mention her at the start or she would have struck me with lightning or something. Now onto the story…

I don't own Fire Emblem   
**Matthew, Jaffar and Nino**

"So Matthew, did you hear about it? Did you hear about it?" Man was that girl was annoying.

Matthew had been sitting with his back to a tree facing towards the camp, some of the scattered tents still easily visible through the foliage, the whole scene illuminated by a strong morning sun, sharpening his knives. It was a laborious duty and one which made him feel like he was playing some cold, malevolent assassin, each stroke of the sharpener being like a mechanical tick in the clockwork of death. Yet it was important to keep them in working order, he had to keep his skills improving, the mission was too important.

It was just after Matthew had been thinking this, while staring back at the camp wondering what on earth his mind would dredge up next and concluding that he thought too much, that he had heard someone approaching. Moments later Serra had emerged from around the corner of his vision, already spewing out words like no one but Serra could manage, that impenetrable, inane, happy grin that she wore like a crown plastered to her face.

"Did you hear about it?"

Matthew looked up, "Isn't it a little dangerous to sneak up on a cold, malevolent assassin sharpening his knives, Serra?" Matthew said with a half-grin that opened one corner of his mouth.

"Don't be silly, Mathy. Besides, no one would ever hurt me, I'm just too sweet for words; no one could ever even bring themselves lay a finger on me. And you're not some assassin, you're just Ostia's little pickpocket. Not like me, of course, I am Hector's most trusted advisor and the only sister in this army. I simply have more respect than anyone else that decided to come along on this journey with me, well me and Eliwood. I suppose it is really his journey but honestly most of them must have just come because of me." Came the reply blasted his way more fiercely than a dragon's breath. Not that the volume was really the problem, though too quiet to hear would have been nice, it just merited running from more that a dragon's breath.

Matthew decided to stay his ground, Serra would just follow him wherever he went. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, Serra continued,

"Say, it's a bit of a problem, isn't it, someone like me being seen with a lowly thief like you." What was it about every last word which Serra spoke that reflected the fact that her ego was bigger than the planet she stood on?

Mentally shaking his head Matthew said,

"Yes, to preserve your image you had better go and talk to Hector instead of me and never come near me again." It didn't work. Serra followed with,

"Aww, it's so sweet how you want to sacrifice your own happiness for me, but you don't need to do that, I in my infinite wisdom have come up with a solution." Matthew groaned,

"And what is that?"

"Well," Serra replied, speaking slowly as though ushering out some great wisdom, "we need to get you some sort of promotion." She sped up again, "it shouldn't be too difficult, every male in the army is utterly taken with my charms. In fact, it's meant to be a secret but Eliwood said that he's going to put me in charge if he feels everything is too much for him and we all know that a lot has been getting to him lately and just imagine the improvements I could make to how things are run. I would make sure that everyone was dressed in a fashionable outfit before going out to battle, I mean armour is all very well but Oswin just looks like some sort of troll when he's in battle." Serra stopped to take a breath, "Ah, but how hard it must be for you, Mathy-wathy, you are surly head over heals in love with me, but you know that I am destined for higher things than you. I who could take my pick of men will surly end up with someone of noble birth."

Matthew, who still had his implements in his hand, produced another _whisk_ before he could stop his hand moving. A name floated to near the surface of his mind. But he had to keep being Matthew so he said,

"What happened to Erk, I though you usually gave this treatment to him. Or have you finally finished him off?"

"Aww, so you know how I'm trying to help Erk, to bring him out of his shell and end his dark, secretive ways, your so sweet Mathy, recognising what I do for him. And no, I haven't finished, he still needs more help."

"Actually, I think you're the main reason for his 'dark, secretive ways,' Serra"

Unperturbed, Serra continued, "But what about the plan to get you a promotion, I have to do something or I you'll never have the pleasure of talking to me again. I'm so helpful, aren't I. Where would you be without me?"

Beginning to form a plan of his own, Matthew said,

"Alright, Serra, I heard that Eliwood and Hector are holding a meeting about promotions somewhere well hidden in the woods about one hour's walk that way," and pointed in some random direction.

Indignantly, Serra said "Some would be wounded, Matthew, truly wounded at how you try to send me away. About how you try to hurt and ravish my tender feelings. But I can find it in my heart to forgive you" Matthew gave an inward sigh, he was sort of hoping she would believe that one, but Serra finally showed a glimmer of intelligence at just the wrong moment.She continued, "So where is the meeting really being held, Mathy?" Nope, it's snuffed out like a candle. He didn't even have to feign defeat and then tell her that there really was a meeting, her stupidity did it all for him. He knew from his experience as a spy that people tended to believe you I you did that, though he couldn't fathom why. He gave a more reasonable reply this time,

"O.K. I'll tell you the truth," he said, feigning indecision, "They are in Hector's tent just on the other side of the camp." As she turned to go, Serra said,

"Let's go then. Come on lazy-legs, you'll get left behind."

"After all that she wants me to come with her," Matthew muttered under his breath, "If only she'd let me get left behind." He gathered up his implements and trudged after her. "I'm coming," he yelled in order to keep her from telling him to hurry up again.

Serra was leading a course around the edge of the camp, probably to avoid being seen with a lowly thief like himself, Matthew reflected. Glorious silence reigned between them for a few moments. The only reason Matthew could come up with for this was that Serra lacked the intelligence to walk and talk and the same time. But unfortunately he was proved wrong when he noticed Serra's eyes light up with recollection and she said,

"You didn't answer my question."

"And which question was that, exactly?" Matthew replied.

"You know, 'did you hear about it?'"

"Did I hear about what?" he asked, still trekking along beside her.

"I'm not telling, you should have asked me earlier rather just ignored me," Serra said as though she was passing a court judgement.

"Suits me."

"H-hay, you can't just say that, you're just pretending. It's unspeakably rude to do that," she said, "But as long as you've learned your lesion I can take pity on you and tell you what you're dying to know."

"O.K. then, tell me." A small part of Matthew was curious after all, a very small part.

"Heehee, Rebecca kicked Wil. They were just talking in the middle of the camp and she suddenly got angry and kicked him." Matthew didn't reply and Serra simply continued "So, what do you think? Looks like a sign that they will end up together?" Matthew's voice turned a little harder,

"Serra, Romances are not something I really want to talk-" he was cut off by Serra's continuing barrage of words,

"I mean, they could end up together, but I think Wil might have eyes for someone else. It's rather tragic that it just wouldn't work." Still not letting Matthew get a word in, she continued, "Say, what about Hector? He and Lyn seem close, but when I come to think of it, there's someone who actually serves Ostia who I'm sure Hector must like more. Who do you think will end up together?" Matthew decided to play along, there was no way of stopping Serra once she got an idea into her head, and besides he could focus his mind on something else, it wasn't like you really needed it to talk to Serra.

"Umm, Kent and Fiora?" Gee, trees are interesting things, aren't they, with leaves and branches and trunks and bark and…

"Mmm, could be, but there's one other girl who Kent's known for about one year longer and is much more attractive." Serra said.

Trees were failing grasp Matthew's attention. Scrabbling around in his mind for some thing else to think about he said,

"Well, what about Eliwood and Ninian?"

"I don't think so, I recon Eliwood likes someone else. Ah, the tragedies of unrequited love" came the answer. "You can't seem to think of any good ones."

"Yes, I know," Matthew said, "Some mystery girl keeps steeling every male that is mentioned, and I can't for the life of me think who that could be." Serra giggled. The giggle didn't seem to stop, it echoed around and around in Matthew's mind. And then Serra said,

"What about Jaffar and Nino? They keep to themselves but I have an amazing intuition for these things and get a feel for them quickly, although I think that mystery girl's charms may have accidentally caught him too.

"Hey, Mathy, why have you stopped?" Serra turned to face Matthew who had indeed stopped a few paces back, a pained expression on his face.

"This is enough" he said in a slow, shaking tone, staring not at Serra but off into space as though there was someone standing there. All of this was lost on Serra and moments later he had disappeared into the trees with all the stealth of an Ostian spy, leaving Serra to yell,

"Mathy! Hello, where are you?"

She spent about another minute looking for him and yelling his name without any result before loosing interest and going off to nag Hector about getting some vassals.

No one saw Matthew at all that day before the sun sunk below the horizon.

Nino woke to the feel of steel pressed against her neck. Her eyes snapped open and peered into the dark of her tent, straining to see what was there. She had a tent to herself, there would be no one to help her. She caught the dark outline of a figure standing over her, not moving.

A finger pressed against her mouth before she could make a sound and a voice by her ear said quietly,

"Not a sound or I will kill you." Nino's eyes opened even wider with the fear that splashed across her face. Her breathing became short and sharp, her hart began to beat faster. How had this happened, she had gone to a perfectly normal sleep after another day of travelling and had been woken up by this.

A few moments passed in silence, they seemed to stretch out for ever, then the figure went to the tent flap and peeked out. Nino saw that who ever it was had a slighter that average build. The shape darted back to her through the darkness and whispered,

"Get up and walk quietly out of the tent and into the woods, I will be following right behind you, if we get caught, you die."

Limp with fear she slowly rose and started for the exit. Then, suddenly, she recalled that voice. She couldn't help herself whispering,

"Matthew?"

"Yes," that voice came again, "That is me." He turned to face her, allowing her to see his face in as much detail as the lack of light allowed. His voice rose a notch, "We were fought side by side, yes, but now there is nothing I won't do, nothing. Some things are inevitable, Nino." There was a terrifying edge to that voice, something in it which made Nino sure that Matthew really would killer her if he had to.

Hopping that someone had heard Matthew's words, Nino, made her way out of the tent, terrified, with Matthew following as though he was her shadow.

Jaffar read over the slip of paper in his hands one more time.

_Jaffar, I have Nino, for real this time, you can check her tent. Follow our tracks from there into the woods. Do not bring a weapon. Between a spy and an assassin I'm sure I don't need to tell you the other conditions under which she dies. _

It was not signed with any name, just the words, _You will not see the dawn, Jaffar,_ in the place where one would expect one. It did not need a name.

Anger filled him as agony simultaneously chocked him. He had though that he had been saved somehow from the touch of death that followed him where ever he went, had though that it was just possible that everything could somehow work out. But now Matthew was to hold him accountable for that which he had done when he was his old self. He was threatening to kill the one thing that had changed him from that self, that had destroyed the man he was, the man that had wronged Matthew, and gave him new life as someone else.

He moved hastily through the still, cold night air, through the sleeping camp with only one fire burning some distance away for those on watch. He knew exactly where Nino's tent was and made straight for it. It came into view and grew nearer and nearer with each stride. He stopped before the tent, the flap was hanging partly open.

"Nino, are you there?" his gravely voice said.

There was no answer. He swept the canvas aside and found it empty.

At that moment his anger folded in on itself and disappeared, his mind emptied of everything, all washed away by despair, empty despair. Nothing mattered, there was just a blackness behind his eyes and a world of empty details before them. He felt part of them somehow, at one with everything, with their shadows. He, his body, there was no difference, was just matter, like everything else around him, matter that would some day cease to function, like everything else around him. He knew everyone who he could possibly meet, knew them through his ability to end them.

But there was a backdrop to all this, like a single colour tinting everything else to an even darker shade, a colour part way between despair, inevitability, endlessness. Despair, for he could not change what was happening. Inevitability, for no one could change what was happening. Endlessness, for events could never be changed back.

He did not think, he pulled the hidden dagger from his boot and dropped it on the ground.

He did not think, he began walking in the direction of the woods, not needing to pause to find the faint marks in the ground.

There was a clearing some distance from the army's camp. Nino was tied to a tree at its edge, gagged, her eyes as windows to the fear filling her.

Matthew was invisible from the ground, hiding among the leaves of another tree, muscles tensed, ready. He was watching the ground with concentration bordering on insanity, he would have noticed a mouse scurry by below him.

Nino could hear her own, somewhat restrained, breathing. Beyond that the night was silent. She wasn't panicked, she wasn't despairing yet. Her will was holding out, not letting the events drown her completely. She looked out into the dark clearing.

Quite suddenly Jaffar appeared, as though from nowhere, at the edge of the clearing. Nino's internal battle redoubled. Matthew felt himself stay in the tree, one hand tightening around a branch. That was him, that was the plan, that was the man he had told himself he would kill.

There was something truly mad in Matthew's voice, something seething and fluctuating like chaos itself when he said,

"You brought no weapon?"

Looking around where the voice had come from without any sign of searching showing on his face, only his eyes moving, Jaffar's voice said,

"No."

What came falling from the tree to land at Jaffar's feet was not a thief but one of Matthew's two daggers. It had not been aimed at him but if it had been Jaffar would not have dodged it, there was no reason to.

"Take it," came that mad voice. Matthew could think of no reason to do what he had just done except that it just seemed inevitable that he and Leila's killer should fight. Inevitable, with the momentum of the entire universe behind it. Nothing anyone there could do would stop it.

When Jaffar had stooped the pick up the blade half buried in the ground, Matthew himself leaped from the branches and landed with his slightly curved blade held before him. Jaffar raised his own with the ease of one to whom fighting was akin to breathing and stood ready, killing was what he did, this was how things essentially were.

No moment of grace passed, no staring into the other's eyes. Matthew slashed at Jaffar who moved his knife to meet the oncoming one. Matthew felt himself stopped by strength superior to his own. Jaffar pushed his arm forward, bending Matthew's further and further back as he tried to hold the hostile blade off. Jaffar suddenly slid his blade off Matthew's and stabbed straight at his left shoulder, moving left himself. But Matthew was too quick and jumped back, behind the start of the line of trees, sword arm held out straight forward to stop Jaffar from getting to him. Jaffar feinted at Matthew's right and threw his hand forward at his other side, the dagger just missing a tree trunk by inches and flicking into the space where Matthew's heart had been before he moved again. Matthew moved around the tree trunk and stabbed at Jaffar, forcing him to jump back, further into the trees. They both disappeared into them, slashing, dodging and feinting, focused completely on the other's actions, trying not to let their blades get stuck even for a moment in one of the trees. It was fight of instant death, they kept their distance from the other, trying not to let him even know where they were, not until the strike where you chose your moment and leaped. The other would just escape death and turn to retaliate, if you were not gone again in an instant, you would die. Each kept absolutely focused on the other's moves, one slip and you would die.

Nino was straining against her bonds, trying to work the gag from her mouth. She had to do something, anything, this all couldn't be true. Her self-control had shattered when the fight had started. Now she couldn't see them, only hear the very occasional clash of metal on metal, in the long gap between each one Jaffar could have died and she would not know. Her eyes were starting to blur with tears, her struggling reached a frantic level, something had to happen.

Suddenly, with an explosion of non-verbal sound from her mouth, she managed to slip the gag off. She had no idea how she had managed it, it had seemed so tight a moment ago despite her continued struggling but her mouth was finally free. Without hesitating she reached out with her mind to the spirits of anima magic and with a string of words the ropes holding her began to char.

She pulled herself free and without hesitation made for where she had heard the last clash. Before she could move more than a few steps, however, the two combatants emerged, still fighting, into the clearing. Neither even seemed to notice her.

"Stop," she cried, "Please stop, you don't have to do this." But they kept on circling each other, before her eyes.

A feeling of helplessness tried to engulf her but she pushed it away. She reached out again and filled herself with magic, but she didn't know what to do with it, she had power but didn't know how to separate them. She couldn't kill Matthew, not even if she had been sure that she might not hit Jaffar instead, she couldn't do it. Sonia had always told her she couldn't do anything, and she was right, Nino was a useless rag-doll.

No there had to be something, but she couldn't think of anything, she was too frantic. She raised her hand and the earth between the two erupted upwards. But it didn't help, the two, acting nearly as one, each simply jumped backwards and then ran at each other, swords flashing.

"Nooo, Jaffar, stop. You have to stop." She was about to fling herself between them when they did stop.

Jaffar's hand had felt its dagger meet skin, Matthew staggered back half a step, no expression visible on his face, mouth hanging open. A gurgling sound emerged from it and his eyes took on a stare of uncomprehending hatred. Jaffar felt nothing.

Nino went pale, her hands dropping to her sides, she felt sick. And then she saw Matthew make one last move.

Jaffar had not let his guard down, he never did so too early. But Matthew's face before him melted into a bitter, bitter smile, ravished by madness. And with his final motion, so quick and sudden than Jaffar could not even react, plunged his sword into Jaffar's flesh.

Jaffar simply fell, as though he would not fight his death. Not even seeing Mathew sink to the ground after Jaffar, Nino let out a wail.

The next morning, Eliwood's party rose to find Matthew, Jaffar and Nino all missing. The found Matthew's and Jaffar's bodies, and Matthew's two daggers on the ground beside them. But there was no sign of Nino, none of them ever saw her again.


End file.
